


How to write a song

by orphan_account



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I just needed more Ernesto x reader fics okay, Multi, Reader-Insert, Sex is only mentioned, Short, Some shit, basically a shitty opposite of Hector and Ernesto make it to the bedroom, because I can't write them, but there is no sex scene really, idk why i did this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Reader is trying a write a song for their employer's new album. Ernesto has other plans.





	How to write a song

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I did it. Pls don't kill me. Ernesto is one sexy motherfucker, I needed my x reader fic.  
> Also please note that English is not my native language, so some parts may look weird. I also never learned Spanish, so "mi amor" is the very top of my abilities. Thank you very much.

«Working hard, mi amor?» 

Ernesto de la Cruz was an astonishing person. Having started his career in a tiny town, where everybody knew each other, he made it to the very top and more. Every person knew his name. Every person wanted to get to is concerts. And his songs… Let’s just say it was hard to name a house in which you weren’t able to hear them. Catchy, with deep meaning and at the same time sung with a gorgeous voice. What else do you need for success? Some were shocked at the fact, that one man had so many talents. Writing, singing, acting… And maybe something else, who knows.

And then there was (y/n). You.

«Well, somebody has to» you smiled, not looking up from your papers. New song had to be ready until the next month and you had a really big problem with catching your muse. She probably had run away to Ernesto’s concert too, leaving you all alone with unfinished music. «Hope you had fun, while I was fighting with the lyrics monster»

Yes, the writing talent belonged to another person. To two different people actually, but Ernesto honestly thought there was no need for his (y/n) to know that. After all, Hector was long gone and no one was remembering him now except for maybe his family. And you was so much easier to work with, so why would Ernesto want to ruin this fruitful cooperation? You, so talented yet inconspicuous, gave a new breath to de la Cruz’s career.

«I’m sure you can take a little rest» Ernesto said, leaning towards his songwriter. «There is still time, and we don’t want you to overwork yourself, do we?» you chuckled and then pointed at a mountain of drafts.

«I need to at least make some progress» you crumpled up another sheet and threw it away. «Also… How many beautiful ladies received “mi amor” this evening before me?» not that you were jealous. You were Ernesto’s songwriter, not a lovely young bride, whose only dream was giving him his little copies. Your goal was to see the world and get some money. And this tour was perfect for that. Ernesto had his songs and fame, you had the experience you had spent your life dreaming about, and so you didn’t really care that he claimed your work for himself. As long as he paid you, of course. The little… thing, you two had was a nice addition

«They are not special»

«Oh? And I am?» you laughed. Ernesto had many ladies, it wasn’t a secret. Beautiful. Charming. Passionate. But only you had the privilege to stay with him for SO long. Because you were useful. «I’m sure that there were a lot of special girls today» Ernesto wasn’t really listening to you. You felt his hand touch your neck and go down. «Ernesto!» not that he was going to react. «I am trying to write YOUR freaking song» 

He was charming, this man. So charming that you ran away from home, believing nearly a stranger. So charming that you couldn’t think about such small thing as music when he was this close. Gosh, it was a horrible idea to let him distract you from your source of money. And yet there was nothing you could do.

«First you steal me from my poor parents… Now you won’t let me work» Ernesto nuzzled your hair, making you lose the last thoughts of the new song. «Such a terrible man» you threw the pencil away, now turning to your employer-lover. He smiled at you once again, understanding this silent «yes» and suddenly lifted you from the chair. «Ernesto!» not that you really mind. But it was necessary to play grumpy at least a few seconds. And he knew that perfectly well. 

«I want you, mi amor» he whispered, as you two made it to the bedroom. Passionate. Hot. Bright. That what your evening were like. «You will create the most beautiful song after we’re finished» oh yes, you surely will.

Maybe it was wrong. Leaving your family. Not creating a new one. Having sex with a man, who paid you for your songs and had new ladies in every town you went. Not the lifestyle your parents would have approved of. Not like their opinion mattered. They kept you locked. And you were flying, thanks for Ernesto and your writing talent. Who needs a family like that anyway? It was so easy to leave.

«Make me sing» 

And a song of a strange lust was born.


End file.
